|
|
Do you remember your dreams? |
yes |
|
33% |
[ 1 ] |
no |
|
0% |
[ 0 ] |
cookie |
|
66% |
[ 2 ] |
|
Total Votes : 3 |
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sat Mar 27, 2010 3:08 pm
Everyone always thinks of paintings when they talk about surrealism but the movement manifested in pretty much every field of self-expression Surrealist poetry is, I find, a nice change from trite cliches that abound in more literalist poetry
Take these for example:
The shape of your eyes Paul Eluard (1926)
The shape of your eyes goes round my heart, A round of dance and sweetness. Halo of time, cradle nightly and sure No longer do I know what I've lived, Your eyes have not always seen me.
Leaves of day and moss of dew, Reeds of wind and scented smiles, Wings lighting up the world, Boats laden with sky and sea, Hunters of sound and sources of colour,
Scents the echoes of a covey of dawns Recumbent on the straw of stars, As the day depends on innocence The world relies on your pure sight All my blood courses in its glance.
I want to sleep with you Joyce Mansour (1955)
I want to sleep with you side by side Our hair intertwined Our sexes joined With your mouth for a pillow. I want to sleep with you back to back With no breath to part us No words to distract us No eyes to lie to us With no clothes on. To sleep with you breast to breast Tense and sweating Shining with a thousand quivers Consumed by ecstatic mad inertia Stretched out on your shadow Hammered by your tongue To die in a rabbit's rotting teeth Happy.
No wretched rhyming of "love" and "dove," no over-used refferences to roses but plenty of visceral emotion
|
 |
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sat Mar 27, 2010 3:11 pm
|
|
|
|
|
|
 |
|
|
|
|
|